


A Quick Jaunt

by bluecuriolady



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23554228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecuriolady/pseuds/bluecuriolady
Summary: In which a vagrant hitches a ride to a village in dire need of remodeling, meets many strange and wonderful people, and goes for an invigorating walk in the local woods. Includes a brief example of things not to get stuck in ones teeth.
Relationships: Abomination/Occultist (Darkest Dungeon), Alhazred/Bigby
Kudos: 6





	A Quick Jaunt

Bigby POV

..............................................................................................................................................................................

Branches whip against your skin as you run through the woods. Foliage twists in a gross facsimile of human form, as panic rises in your chest. Thorn bushes scratch against your ankles and cut at your bare feet. 

You can't continue on like this. Your heart is jumping like a panicked hare in your chest. You're going to have to stop running eventually. But if you do, you risk you risk your pursuers gaining on you. 

You can hear the sound of voices. But from what direction? Sound seems to echo and hang. You hear snarling in the distance but you are no longer sure if the sound is real or simply a delusion of your paranoia.

The voice comes back muttering and swearing indecipherably. You duck behind a copse of trees and press yourself against the rough bark, willing your pursuers to pass you by. Minutes pass the voice gets neither further nor closer. Why, why can't they just give up?

But it's just one voice. You no longer hear the baying of hounds. Finally at a loss you peer from your hiding place. 

Only to see a man trying to repair a broken carriage wheel. He appears harmless, and not only that, he seems to be alone, the carriage lacks passengers. 

How has he not noticed you? You can't have been quite, tearing through the undergrowth. Yet the man continues chattering to himself as he examines the wheel. Perhaps he is a bit touched. 

Your gaze drifts to the mismatched luggage atop the cart. There's quite the jumble of packages, many of them large. Plenty of space to conceal yourself. This might be a good opportunity to get out of here. 

You clamber up amongst the cargo and wedge yourself between a large stack of flour sacks and a haphazard pile of blankets. You pull a muted green blanket over yourself and wait. 

All at once the cart takes off at a most dire rate. You cling to the ropes lashed to the roof for dear life. The driver seems to hit every single obstacle and it is fast becoming apparent how the wheel broke. You hunch down amongst the fabrics and pray it is a short trip. 

............................................................................................................................................................................

The cart stops its mad egress at an inn of most dire look. Your peer from your hiding spot into a ramshackle town, the buildings weather beaten and decaying. A chill mist has settled over the area and you pull the stolen blanket closer to your shoulders.

A tall, cloaked man stops to converse with the driver, he is so heavily covered you can make out no features what so ever. A slim figure follows him, red garments clashing shockingly with the drab surroundings. What is a jester doing in such an impoverished town? 

You can hear only hear snippets of conversation from your hiding spot. 

"No new recruits?" the man asks. 

The cart driver gestures at the empty carriage and the man sighs.

"Perhaps you could look further afield?" he says. 

The cart driver seems to be embroiled in the conversation and this appears an opportune time to make your escape. As you slip off the back of the carriage, a stray kettle catches in the blanket. It clatters to the ground. 

You bolt toward an alley behind the inn. You hear the ringing of bells behind you, a joyous sound turned ghastly by your fears. As you skirt the corner of the building your eyes catch the blank, black, holes of the jester's mask. 

The winding alleys quickly exit into a small graveyard. You stop to catch your breath against one of the chipped stele. The jester does not seemed to have followed you. 

"Are you one of the new recruits?"a voice chirps at you. 

You turn and see a shrouded figure with a beaked mask. Realization hits like a brick to the head. 

"This is a plague town." you squeak in a horrified whisper. 

"Oh no, I'm here as normal doctor nothing more." she says quietly shifting a shovel behind her back. 

"That looks painful. You need some help with it?" she continues on unworriedly, as if seeing a ragged branded man with chains is just a regular day to day event. 

"Ummm. Help with what?" you say. 

"That massive burn on your head, you goose." she says. 

You stop paralyzed by indecision. Would it be better to flee or submit to her ministrations? She takes your hesitation as an invitation and pours wine onto your head. The shovel she was holding drops to the ground behind her with a clunk. 

"Wait, what are you doing?" you say, wiping at the stinging wine in your eyes. 

"Cleaning your wound, what else would I be doing?" she says, patting your head down with a cloth. 

She shoves her gloved hands into her pockets. And digs and digs. She drops a jar of mushrooms, a bundle of scissors, and a small stone rose before she finds her quarry. Her hands reemerge from the depths of her pockets holding a small jar. She dips her fingers into releasing a sweet scent, faint with the attar of roses and honey. 

"That's a nasty one. At least the cauterizing stopped the bleeding. There!" she says smearing the ointment onto your head. 

"You said something about recruits?" you ask, eager to distract her before she attempts more medicine on your person. 

"Yes. The heir is recruiting to purge the estate of all manner of demons, devils, ghost, ghouls, and your bog standard robbers and ruffians." she says. 

"Where should I head?" you ask. This is your best chance. The town is completely disreputable and therefore you are less likely to be noticed. The lord of such a place surely can't afford to be choosy. He might not even realize what sort of monster has joined his ranks. 

"I can take you there right now! I just need to refill my box of leeches." she says. 

.........................................................................................................................................................................

The plague doctor leads you to the outskirts of the woods. Two figures are examining a map. The man is wearing worn silks and a turban. Swathes of parchment stick out at odd angles from a satchel hanging off his shoulder. Perhaps a scholar of some sort? The woman is tall and muscular. Her face is painted with woad. 

It's unlikely either of them would recognize you. You walk up to the scholar and attempt to muster a smile. He reaches out and shakes your hand. 

"I'm Alhazred and this enchanting lady is Boudica". he says "And you?" 

"I'm..." you start. 

"Subject number 2!" the plague doctor interrupts. 

"Bigby" you interject. 

"Paracelsus" she replies offering you her gloved hand. 

You take her hand and shake it. This isn't how things were supposed to go, but it seems harmless. 

"We need to go into the forest and scout the area. Look for any signs of bandits." says Boudica. 

"Not a long trip then" says Alhazred "and probably no skeletons." 

"The brigands have killed that many people?" you say stunned. 

"Oh no, the walking sort." says Alhazred cheerfully. 

"What?!" the volume of your voice increases with your disbelief. 

Paracelsus claps her hand on your shoulder "Off we go! 

..............................................................................................................................................................

The forest has an unsettling smell about. The scent of rotten vegetables mixes with desiccated carrion. There seem to be far too many animal carcasses around, which the barbarian woman declares to be oddly untouched. 

You have been wandering the woods for hours. Twice you see unsettling shapes moving about in the gloom. The only evidence you have found of bandits is a long dead campfire, which could have been travelers. 

The sky is growing dark. You misstep in the gloom and a puffball explodes under your bare feet, sending up a cloud of spores. 

Boudica holds her hand out and everyone stops. You stare out into the dark trees, looking for something, but not sure what it would be. The monastery didn't prepare you for hunting, let alone stalking armed men through the woods.

Beside you, Alhazred unsheathes his dagger. The quite rustle of Paracelsus' coat seems cacophonous in the silent forest.

"Watch out!" Boudica yells. She lunges forward, knocking you down. You land amidst the fallen leaves, to the crack of a gunshot.

Dark looming shapes emerge from the trees. Brigands reeking of stale sweat and drying blood, the torchlight glints over their steel blades. One of them stands out from the rest. A gigantic, towering brute, holding a cat of nine tails. 

Frantically you push yourself up from the ground, to the ringing of metal clashing with metal. A small bag sails over you, hitting one of the brigands in the face. He starts coughing, the strike he was aiming towards you going wide. He wheezes and then collapses, convulsing onto the ground. 

The brute turns towards you, a nasty grin on his face. You see his arm pull back to strike and you duck, half falling to the side, the whip cracking over your head. You hear Paracelsus swear as you hit the ground. The light suddenly snuffs out, throwing the woods into darkness.

You try to scramble out of the way in the blackness, but it is too late.The brutes blow connects, with a sharp, wet crack. The whip strikes again and again. Pain sears your back as memories rise up like bile. 

You scream as your bones crack and reshape, flesh melting and reforming. The scream becomes a howl as your nose elongates into a snout, your fingers gaining sudden purchase against the ground, as they lengthen into claws. 

You lunge at your tormentor, claws striking flesh. You feel him fall under your weight. You strike again and again, nails rending flesh. In desperation the brute brings his arm up and you hear the sudden crack of a pistol. Pain lances through your leg. Enraged you bite down, the struggles under you suddenly ceasing. 

You cough, the taste of blood in your maw is sweetly cloying. You lick your teeth, dislodging bits of human flesh. 

A light kindles faintly behind you. You glance back, to the horrified faces of your companions. Perhaps if you could say something to reassure them. 

A language you barely understand spills from your maw, mixing with guttural howls. Shocked you cower amongst the bracken. 

You'll be dragged back to that hell. A quick death would be a kindness in comparison. A twig snaps and so do you. You lunge toward the forest in an attempt to escape. An escape which is cut short by the sharp pain in your leg. You fall to your knees. Betrayed by your own limbs, all you can do is bleat and wait for the inevitable. 

"Bigby!" Alhazred shouts. "Bigby it's all right! They're dead!." 

He pushes forward. Reaches out, his hand brushing softly against your fur. You bury your snout against the occultist's chest, hiding your horrid visage from your companions. To your shock Alhazred responds by stroking your horns. 

"We need to get the bullet out." Boudica says. 

A set of gloved hands suddenly grabs your leg,feeling over the flesh and muscle.Swiftly followed by the blunt pain of metal probing into your flesh. 

"RGWWFGGG!!!!" you screech. 

"Bigby I have no idea what that means." Paracelsus says, examining the shot she fished from your leg. 

"Will he be able to walk?" Boudica says. 

"Unlikely, there's a fair amount of damage to the leg. He's lucky the shot didn't shatter bone." Paracelsus replies. 

"Wait, I might be able to do something about that." says Alhazred looking oddly remiss. 

The words streaming from Alhazred's mouth are unnatural, the keening cadence echoes and hangs in your ears. The fingers of his free hand move in an erratic twitching succession, tracing symbols in the air. 

You feel something wrapping around you, cocooning you and the scholar turned occultist. Something writhes against the darkness, spectral lights flick at the edge of your vision. You draw in a ragged breath, as the lights coalesce into tentacles. Tentacles that twitch about you, and with sudden, dreadful intent, envelop you. 

You shudder at the intrusion, but to your shock the sensation isn't painful. The tentacles brush over your wounded back gently, soft as velvet and strangely soothing. The agony in your leg subsides to the delicate stroking of the tendrils. The sudden easement your wounds, causes you to lose hold of your better half. Your form begins to slide, flesh twisting and shrinking, bones cracking. 

The transformation leaves you gasping. You reach up to lay your hand against your throbbing skull, only to find the position of the sky seems to have rearranged itself. Probably because you are lying with your head in Alhazred's lap. You stay there blinking for a bit, trying to recover. 

"There were tentacles!" you manage to gasp out. 

"Yes, well I haven't really had any formal medical training." says Alhazred, shrugging. 

...............................................................................................................................................................

You can see the dim lights of the town. Their reddish glow seems almost welcoming, softening the decay and disrepair of the hamlet. Paracelsus and Boudica head off in the direction of the inn. 

You trail behind with Alhazred, unsure of what to do with yourself. Alhazred turns toward what seems to be the barracks. You can see the glow of a candle against the window. 

"You can just let me off here." you say. 

Alhazred looks at you puzzled. "Why?"

"They'll be lots of people there. I'll just find a barn to sleep in." you say. 

"Bigby you just got shot in the leg, you need to somewhere warm to sleep. Preferably with a bed." Alhazred says. 

"But, but the demon thing. What if they realize?" you say. 

"Bigby if they haven't noticed the tentacle thing with me, I doubt they'll notice the goat thing with you. Paracelsus and Boudica already agreed to be discrete." he says. 

"You weren't scared?" you ask Alhazred. 

"Of a big goat? I've seen goats before. Or do you mean the supernatural? I have some experience with that as well." he replies. 

Biting down your worries you follow him toward the faint lights of the town.


End file.
